


Pillow Talk

by Forest_Girl



Series: Daneroweek 2020 [3]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Heartwarming, M/M, Music, Post-DMC5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_Girl/pseuds/Forest_Girl
Summary: In a long-forgotten corner of an even longer-forgotten storage room in Devil May Cry, Nero finds a tiny wind-up music box.
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Series: Daneroweek 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587706
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111
Collections: DaNero Week 2020





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompts Music, Treasure, Family, and Home. 
> 
> Despite the title, no pillow talk actually occurs in this fic. You will see why later.
> 
> Once again, this fic is, like, barely edited. The idea came to me at two am and I vomited it out because it had me in a stranglehold, and it will exist in a perpetual hell of unedited-ness.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, especially Nero’s, Dante had never cleaned the office before in his life. He seemed completely allergic to it, which Nero could _partially_ understand. Most cleaning solutions had a distinctly chemical scent that irritated the hell out of Nero due to his enhanced senses, so it was probably just as bad, if not worse, for Dante. 

Still, that didn’t excuse him having a storage room filled with completely useless crap.

Seriously, an _entire room._ Granted, it wasn’t the biggest room in the building, but it was still a lot of space that Dante had filled with anything that was non-perishable. Everything was covered in about an inch of dust and thrown haphazardly in there, and it Nero was starting to develop a nervous twitch whenever he passed it.

When Dante had gone out on one of his jobs, Nero finally decided he’d do something about the fucking thing before he drove himself insane. He got some trash bags for things that couldn’t be salvaged, and cardboard boxes for things that could. Maybe he could sell a couple things and turn a profit.

He spent the entire day sifting through Dante’s shit, throwing out a majority of it. A lot was miscellaneous crap that had no reason for being there, like the long-expired coupons (and by ‘long-expired,’ Nero means, ‘these coupons are probably older than he is’ expired) coupons for the local pizzeria, crumpled-up bills from decades ago, partially destroyed furniture… it was like Dante used the room to throw out all his trash, instead of, you know, using it for _storage._

However, some of the mess was still useful and in decent condition. If Dante didn’t want to keep it, Nero could more than likely sell it online. Nero had found at least two old coats and a set of torn gloves, all of which could be re-sized or repaired for any of them to use. On top of that, he’d also found some old books that apparently catalogued demons and their weaknesses, which could sell for a pretty penny to other starting hunters.

More than halfway through, Nero’s foot bumped against something metallic on the floor, a few light, musical notes playing as he did. Setting down his trash bag down, Nero picked it up, surprised to find a small, wind-up box.

It looked _ancient;_ definitely older than Dante. Like everything else in the room, it was layered with dust, but Nero could feel some rust coating it. Though the storage room was dark, Nero could see that there was a large, dark patch on the right, like it had been dipped in dirt. Attempting to pry the lid open lead to a surprising amount of resistance, and Nero stopped before he accidently ripped it off.

If Nero had to guess, this was one of the more sentimental items Dante had kept, like some of the old clothes he’d found searching through the room. It didn’t seem right for Nero to just throw it away, especially if he could get it to work. Worse comes to worst, if Dante didn’t want it, Nero could sell for a lot more after restoring rather than leaving it in its current state. Maybe he’d even keep it for himself.

He pocketed the box, and went back to cleaning the room.

* * *

Nero didn’t _mean_ to hide the fact that he found the little box, or that he was going to clean it, honest. He got swept up in cleaning out the remaining mess in the room, then got distracted when Dante got back. The older hunter took a look around the cleared-out room, the dust and grime covering Nero, and told him to take a shower.

Not that Nero wasn’t going to take it, considering he was covered in god-knew how much disgusting stuff, but still, it felt nice knowing that Dante cared.

Undressing, Nero heard the same small, metallic notes from the box as he took off his jacket, suddenly remembering that he put it there instead of in one of the ‘keep’ boxes. He wondered what it might have been during his shower and, once he finished and his hands were dry, he rooted through his pocket to pull it out.

The light in the bathroom was infinitely better than the storage room, so Nero could make out more details. The metal lid looked warped, slightly melted, keeping it closed. The red and gold decorative paint was old and fading, starting to chip away, and the dark stain that Nero could make out earlier looked more like… soot?

The wind-up key, which was underneath the box, looked untouched, but there might be internal damage that he wouldn’t know about until he got it open. Given how melted the left side was, Nero would have to cut it to do that, then reshape and buff everything out so that it matched the right side, all without damaging _anything_ inside it.

In simpler words, on top of cleaning and repainting the outside, Nero had to do a lot of work that he needed to do with teeny tools with teeny materials, which would be super fucking meticulous and take a lot of time. Maybe not as much time as the thing would be worth.

…But the box probably meant something to Dante… 

Nero groaned, putting the box back in his jacket pocket. As he continued to dry off, he made a mental note to ask Nico if he could borrow her metal-working tools.

* * *

Getting the music box open wasn’t the difficult part, it was everything after. 

Unfortunately, some of the music box’s internal parts had gotten melted, which would need to be replaced. These parts weren’t common, and Nero would have to order them online, since the only place he could even think would have something similar was a pawn shop, which would be dingy and falling apart, and it would just mean that he would have to get more parts sooner rather than later.

Even Nico knew that he had his work cut out for him, whistling once she got it open. Thankfully, Nero had managed to strike a deal with her: she’d handle all the metal shaping work, since she had the specific welding tools that could fix it, while he handled the more delicate engineering work for the music box, since he had experience with engineering and delicate machinery. Red Queen and her engine didn’t appear overnight, and he was the one who often did maintenance and repairs, not Nico.

The worst part, however, was that there was a damaged inscription on the back of the lid. It was only three lines of tiny text, but half of it was melted and similarly warped to the right side of the box, completely illegible. 

_“To my innocent lo…_

_the wonders of h…_

_May our days be fil…_ ”

There was no way Nico could restore it, and not just because replicating an engraving was hard as hell. Nero tried searching online to see if it was a quote from a poem or something, but he didn’t have any luck.

Nico threw out the idea of buffing the whole message away, but they quickly agreed they shouldn’t. The message was personal and, if it was a personal item that meant something to Dante, then he would probably want the message preserved, even in it’s half-complete state. If it wasn’t, then they’d buff it out before they put pictures online.

A week after Nico got the box open and got most of the melted parts fixed, Nero finally got the specific parts he needed to repair the actual _music_ part of the music box. It was a lot of busy work, most of which Nero spent hunched over the small mechanisms, his tongue sticking out as he focused on his work.

After a good thirty minutes of solid work, Nero put his tools down and leaned back, stretching his arms out. If Nero had done all of this right and, if the new key and springs worked, all Nero would have to do was apply new paint, then show it to Dante to figure out what to do with it.

Nero cranked the key on the bottom until it started to get tight and, the moment he let go, the door to the van opened, Dante’s heavy steps shaking the floor. “Hey, Nico, wanted to ask you about--”

And just like that, the music box [ began to play. ](https://youtu.be/5kFdqO3dzKc)

The song was a lullaby of some sort, with calming, tiny notes. It was soothing and, if it weren’t for the fact that Dante had frozen, staring at Nero and the disassembled music box on the table with something like awe, he’d probably start to relax.

Dante took a lurching step forward, then another, and he gently took the repaired music box from Nero’s hands. He held it carefully, like it was a baby, running his thumb over the barely-there inscription. “Where did you…?”

“In the storage room, when I was cleaning.” Nero spoke just above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tension that had settled between them. “Nico fixed up most of the box, I made sure the music could play. We, uh… couldn’t save the words on the lid.”

Dante hummed. “To my innocent lover, who taught me the wonders of humanity’s strength. May our days be filled with joy and love.”

Nero blinked. “You remembered it?”

“Yep.” Dante sighed, winding the music box up again when the song began to slow, then placing it on the counter. “You remember Redgrave? You remember how the house Urizen and I fought by looked?"

Oh. _Oh._ Nero wasn’t expecting this conversation when he woke up today, but… if repairing the music box got Dante to open up about his past, Nero would take it. “Yeah. Wasn’t the main event, but I remember it.”

Dante tensed up, looking off at some point the distance. Not liking the expression on his face, Nero gently shoved his shoulder. “It looked nice. Big. Would’ve like a place like that growing up, instead of the orphanage.”

“Yeah, it was nice.” A mirthless chuckle, Dante hung his head. “When we were younger, demons found out that we… existed. Turns out, when the most hated demon in the Underworld has kids, that paints a big ol’ target on your back, and when they figured out where we lived…”

The music box’s song trailed off, and Dante’s breath hitched. “There’s… not much left now, I guess. Haven’t been there in years, but shortly after, I went back and… I don’t know. Maybe I thought I’d find Vergil, maybe mom would be there, completely fine.”

“But you didn’t.” Nero said.

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t find my family, and everything we owned… if it wasn’t slashed to bits, then it was burnt to a crisp.

“But, I did manage to find a couple things that were unscathed. I found a hidden room in my dad’s office that was mostly undamaged. Rebellion was in there, but I had to go back for it once I was taller than it was. There was a picture of my mother, too, and it’s on my desk now.” 

“And… the box?”

“That was the only thing _not_ in the hidden room. I found it in my parent’s bedroom. I’m… pretty sure it was an anniversary gift from my dad, but mom gave it to us shortly after he left. Me and Vergil would ask mom to listen to it whenever we needed help sleeping, or when we needed to calm down.”

Dante sighed, taking the music box in hand again, gently running his fingers over the shining metal. “I could never get it fixed. Never had enough money, and I didn’t want to give it to someone else to fix it up, only for them to mess up and destroy it. That, and I left a lot behind me before I got my shop set up. Figured that leaving this little thing behind would be a good thing.”

Dante lifted his head, and Nero was struck by just how old Dante’s eyes were. Nero was only halfway through his twenties, and he’d experienced a fair bit of misery and trauma in his life. Dante was double that, and he’d seen just as much, if not more than he did. Leaving his memories of his family behind, just to survive so that he wouldn’t have to linger on his trauma.

Nero’s mouth ran ahead of his brain. “Can’t the world just give you one good thing?”

Dante barked out a laugh. A real, _genuine_ laugh. The heavy tension in the van dissipated slightly. “It did. Took twenty years, but it gave up after a while.”

“What, getting Vergil back?”

“Nah.” Dante chuckled and slung his arm around Nero's back, patting his shoulder. “You, kid.”

Nero felt his face burn, and he nervously scratched his nose, leaning into Dante’s hold. “Yeah, well… consider the box payment for… dealing with me.”

“Think it’s the other way around.” Dante leaned closer, pressing a tender kiss to Nero’s forehead. Nero buried his face in Dante’s shoulder, gently holding onto his coat. “Thank _you_ for dealing with me, _and_ repairing my mother’s music box.”

“It’s not done yet, still gotta paint it.” Nero mumbled.

“Well, we can do that together, then.” Dante picked up the box, holding it between us. “Doubt we could get it to look just like it used to, but… maybe that’s a good thing.”

Nero placed his hand on top of the music box, gently running his thumb over the lid. “Can I… play it again?”

“Yeah.” Dante turned it over, his hand shaking as he began to wind the key, a few stray notes playing. “I want to hear it, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Pillow Talk, so far, has been the only Devil May Cry song to make me cry. It was such a relief hearing the soft music box after the hell that was dmc1, and it's such a nice song, too.
> 
> EDIT 11/17/20: had to change the hyperlink bc the video it was linked to is now deleted. Damn you DMCA claims that end up terminating channels.


End file.
